* * * * * *
Law Offices of Hayes, Cooper, & Dafoe - Boston

Cecelia Barnes sat down with a weary sigh and pulled a thick folder from her briefcase. This had to be one of the most convoluted custody cases she had ever been involved in. On the surface it seemed so straightforward - deceased mother, imprisoned father, two children, and two willing potential guardians. Things went rapidly downhill from there.

On one side was the deceased woman�s sister with her own husband and children. Cecelia had made a career out of being able to read people and she could tell that the sister harbored a great deal of ill will for her brother-in-law and his entire family. It wasn�t difficult to understand her resentment. She had been denied any access to her niece and nephew after their mother�s death five years ago.

On the other side of the case there seemed to be a great deal of ill will within the man's family as well. He had passed over several relatives, including a full brother, to ask that his children be given into the custody of a half-brother who had, to all appearances, cut ties with the family more than fifteen years ago. There were even indications that this half-brother was at least indirectly responsible for the man�s arrest.

Cecelia had been hired by John Grant over the phone and he had sketchily presented his case. Since the custody hearing was to decide between the parties of Kelley and Grant she hadn't realized whom the children actually belonged to at first. It hadn't taken very long though until the complications materialized.

Cecelia was a Boston native. She read the papers. She knew who the O�Doyles were. If she had known from the outset that the case revolved around the dysfunctional dynamics of one of the city's most infamously rumored mob families, she would have been much more cautious about becoming involved. Over the years, many Boston lawyers had staked their reputations and careers on either opposing or defending the O'Doyles in criminal courts. It had made some, broken others. She didn't know of anyone, however, either brave enough or foolish enough to become embroiled in such a personal, internal dispute. It was a dubious distinction, she thought to herself as she began reading through her notes once again.

* * *
John paced the short corridor for the fifteenth time in half an hour. Jamie and Megan had only been talking to the social workers for thirty minutes, but he was already impatient to know how things were going. He hadn't coached them for their interviews; he'd simply told them to tell the truth. He had no illusion that he was their first choice, but given that staying with their father was an impossibility, he thought that the children would at least choose him over their long-absent aunt. That was his hope anyway.

An empty conference room at the end of the hallway had a window overlooking a small park and he paused in his pacing to stare out of it for a few minutes. Movement in the doorway distracted him from the view. It was a man he didn�t recognize - not one of the social workers and definitely not one of the kids. He shook his head and started to turn back to the window when he realized that he did recognize the man after all. A face far too similar to his own held a matching expression of recognition.

�Long time, no see, little brother,� Brandon said as he approached, a sneer in his voice.

�Not nearly long enough,� John answered in an equally resentful tone. Years� worth of bitter memories rushed back as he stood facing his childhood nemesis. While he had always been afraid of his oldest half-brother, it was the younger one he�d truly hated. While the decades past had washed away most of the fear he�d ever had of Colm, he was almost startled to realize that his hatred of Brandon was undimmed. Staring into the all-too-familiar clear blue of Brandon�s eyes, he could see the gleam of malice that had been there for as long as he could remember. It was that glimmer of determined spitefulness that had always so infuriated young Johnny in their many uneven fights so long ago.

As the old anger surged to the surface once again John wondered briefly what errand their father had sent Brandon here on. Since Colm had his own ambitions and had been heading up his own branch of the Boston mob�s business, Patrick had taken Brandon as his right-hand man. �Enforcer� was the term the OCB boys used to describe his role in the organization, but to John he was still just the same old bully. His assessment was confirmed as Brandon took another step forward to glower at him. Megan was right, he thought absently. They were nearly the same height now.

�You know you can�t win this,� Brandon said. �This is our town and you aren�t welcome here.�

�Never much liked Boston anyway.�

�Colm may have taken care of O�Connor for you, but that deal doesn�t mean anything to a lot of other people.�

A few more pieces suddenly clicked into place. For the first time, it occurred to John that this saga didn�t really revolve around him at all. This ploy to take Jamie and Megan from him was as much to punish Colm as it was anything else. He began to wish that he knew a little more about just what the terms of his brother�s sentencing had been. If Colm was turning his own evidence over to the OCB, then it was no surprise that Patrick would be lashing out at him in the only way left. If Colm wanted his children to be raised by John, then Patrick would fight them both every step of the way.

John�s eyes narrowed. �You wouldn�t be threatening a Federal Agent, now would you?�

�Shouldn�t need to,� Brandon replied. �You have a good memory, Johnny. That should be enough to remind you that it isn�t a good idea to disagree with Dad.�

�So he sends you to deliver that message? Run home and tell him I�m not impressed.�

Brandon snorted. �And he�s always bitching about how you were the smart one?�

�Jealous?� John knew that he was pushing, but fifteen years� worth of resentment simmered in his veins and seeing Bran�s twisted smirk was threatening to make it boil.

�Of you? A stupid little brat who was too weak to be an O�Doyle?�

�You think I�m weak, Bran? Come on. Take a swing,� he dared. �Let�s see you try it now that I�m big enough to hit back.�

Brandon swung.

In a few moments John looked in satisfaction at the man slumped against the wall. �I�ve been dreaming about doing that for a long time,� he said.

�You�re no better than we are,� Brandon replied.

�We�re nothing alike.� John frowned down at him. �I�d say that this was the first fair fight we�ve ever had.�

�You enjoyed this,� Brandon persisted.

John turned away� and looked up in surprise.

�Nate?� He stared at the tall, serious man standing just inside the doorway. �You came.�

�Moral support,� Nathan said with a shrug. He tilted his head to look at Brandon climbing slowly to his feet then glanced back at John. �I take it you and the family are getting along as well as ever?�

�Just like old times,� John agreed. �Only better.�

�It ever occur to you that assaulting people inside a federal courthouse might not be a good way to make a favorable impression on your judge?�

John gave him a cynical grin and waved a hand at the room dismissively. �No cameras,� he replied. �Never happened. I never touched him. Did I, Bran? Your weak little baby brother could never beat you up, now could he?�

�This isn�t over, Johnny,� Brandon snarled as he pushed past them.

�For you and me it is,� John called after him. �Tell Dad if there�s anything he has to say to me, he�d better do it in person.�

�Didn�t Bailey send you to a sensitivity training class?� Nathan asked as they stood watching Brandon leave the building.

�He sent me to two. And an anger management course last spring.�

Nathan sighed. �Nice to see our tax dollars at work so effectively. You know that your father probably sent him to deliberately provoke you, right?�

�I know.� John rubbed a hand across his face wearily. �And it worked. Bran was right.�

Nathan looked at him in surprise. �About what?�

�About enjoying it. It felt pretty good.� A surge of guilt tugged at him. Provoked or not, he shouldn�t have pushed Brandon into that fight. It almost frightened him how easily they had slipped into the old habits of settling confrontations between them. He was older and wiser now and surely he knew many better ways of dealing with Brandon than resorting to the traditional O�Doyle method of �Irish diplomacy�. He was abruptly jolted from his dark thoughts by a hand on his shoulder.

�You aren�t one of them,� Nathan said quietly. �You don�t think like them. Your reasons aren�t the same.�

John smiled weakly and shook his head. �You know, I�d nearly forgotten how nice it is to have someone around that gives me the benefit of the doubt once in a while.�

�You ought to call more often, man,� Nathan admonished. �And a little content in those calls wouldn�t hurt either.�

* * *
Cecelia rearranged the papers on her desk one more time. Glowing letters of recommendation. A videotape proclaiming Mr. Grant�s suitability from an FBI psychologist. Tax statements. Hospital records. A myriad of paperwork that had been waded through dozens of times by both lawyers and the court. So much had already been done even before the children and both their potential guardians had arrived back in Boston. So much had already been decided.

He entered hesitantly. With a twinge of guilt Cecelia saw that he still had a flicker of hope in his eyes. She tried to smile but knew she wasn�t entirely successful. He took the seat she indicated.

�Mr. Grant,� she began, �I�ve been reviewing your case...�

�I should hope so,� he muttered.

�And I have to say...� She looked back at her notes, not wanting to watch his face. �I�m sorry, Mr. Grant, but you have to see it from the court�s point of view. The court sees an aunt who loves these children dearly, who has a husband and children of her own, who can provide them with a stable home environment and constant supervision. Then they see an uncle who loves them just as much, but...� She shook her head. �But he�s a bachelor who has no experience with children, who has a high-risk job that takes him away from home at any and all hours of the day and night, who...�

�I can get another job,� he interrupted desperately. �I can change anything for them.�

�It doesn�t matter what you change, John,� she told him gently. Her heart was breaking at the lost look in his eyes. �They are not going to let you take these children. You have to see that.�

�You knew all along that I never had a chance. You knew this. Why?� She could see him grasping for words. �Why did you put me... put us through all this if you knew I never had a chance?�

She shook her head, not sure he would understand her reasoning. �It may not seem like it right now, but I did it for you� For you and the children.� He looked at her blankly. �They�re going to have a rough time ahead of them. They�re going to feel lost, maybe even abandoned. I�ve talked with them, seen how attached they are to you. They needed to know that you were willing to fight for them. No matter how hopeless it was, you fought for them. If you had accepted the truth at the beginning, that there was no way you were going to win this, they might never have understood that you were just being practical about letting them go...�

�I�m not letting go,� he protested. A determined look rose in his eyes behind the anger and anguish.

�I�m not saying you have to. Not completely.� She sighed. �You just have to let them go to Illinois.� His expression never changed. �Mr. Grant, the decision has already been made. Their aunt is taking them back this afternoon. Their plane leaves at three o�clock.�

�Today?� The remains of color washed out of his face. He had walked into her office still believing that there was something he could do. He had never realized that nothing he did would be enough.

Cecelia watched him crumble. She could see that somehow this meant much more to him than it should. He barely knew these children. They had been in his custody less than six weeks. This should be so much easier than he was making it. Yet she thought she could understand why he had fought so hard. He needed them as much as they needed him.

* * *
Logan Airport -

Jamie wouldn�t look at him, hadn�t looked at him since they�d walked out of the attorney�s office. He�d merely stared stony-faced out the window the entire ride back to their hotel. Megan hadn�t looked at him either, but that was because her little face was buried in his shirt. She�d thrown her arms around his neck and hadn�t let go in two hours. Nathan had had to drive. Jamie had continued to ignore him as they repacked their suitcases and gone back to staring out the window as they�d driven to the airport. Katherine was waiting for them at the gate.

�You know that you can call me any time,� John said to them. Jamie had turned his back, but John could tell that he was still listening. �If you ever need me - for anything - just call me and I�ll do my damnedest to get there as soon as I can.�

�Promise?� Megan said.

�I promise.�

�Do we really have to go?� she asked sadly.

�You know that I�d keep you if they�d let me.� He knelt in front of her, hoping desperately that she would understand. That both of them would. �You know I want you to stay. But the judge thinks that Aunt Kathy and Uncle Mark will be great guardians too. You�ll be fine. Hey, you�ll even have cousins to play with up there. I bet Sarah and Emily can�t wait to meet you.�

�Swell,� Jamie muttered and rolled his eyes. �More girls. Shoot me now.�

Despite the pain he felt, John couldn�t help a small grin at the boy�s words. Sam had said he was rubbing off on the children already. It looked like she might just be right.

�Call me,� he told them once again. �Any time, for anything. I gave Aunt Kathy all my numbers and addresses and everything. Okay?�

�Whatever,� Jamie shrugged. Despite the boy�s attempt to appear nonchalant, John could see that it was difficult for him to pretend that it didn�t hurt to be shipped off to yet another relative that he barely knew. John knew just how painful that constant shuffling from one strange environment to another could be, but he still didn�t know of anything he could say that would ease it.

Megan hugged him tightly once more as the last call for their plane sounded. Katherine stood by with a nervous smile as she gathered the children�s carry-on bags and took Megan�s hand. The smile she directed at John was tempered with suspicion and he had no doubt that she suspected he was no better than his brothers. As long as she took good care of Jamie and Meg though, he didn�t give a damn what she thought about him.

�Jamie?� Katherine called. �It�s time to go.� The boy gave her a skeptical glance reminiscent of the look he�d given John all those weeks ago when standing in his grandfather�s living room.

�Just a sec,� he told her, turning back for a moment. �Uncle John? You really promise?� Blue O�Doyle eyes blinked up at him, wide and wistful, wanting desperately to believe.

�On my life, my badge, and anything else you want,� John swore. �Call me, I�ll come.�

Jamie nodded once and followed Katherine and Meg onto the plane.

* * *
John stared out the window and tried not to think about anything as the airplane floated through the clouds. He tried not to think about how betrayed Jamie had looked. He tried not to think about how tightly Meg had clung to his neck or how he had been forced to stand there and watch Katherine take them away. He tried not to think about the emptiness in the center of his chest that made it hard to even breathe. He couldn�t understand how they had been part of his life for such a short amount of time and still made such a huge dent in it by their absence.

He traveled in a void. His fellow passengers made no impression on him at all and their arrival at Hartsfield barely intruded on his bleak thoughts. He retrieved his luggage from the overhead bin and disembarked on autopilot. He walked down the access corridor almost blindly and into the bright, busy airport. The joyful reunions around him were the first images he consciously registered in more than six hours. It was so unfair, he thought. He couldn�t even be bitter about it. It was just a fact. It was unfair. And now, damn it, he still had to get a cab home. He had almost managed a grim smile at his own misery when he walked directly into a woman who was obviously waiting for one of the passengers.

�I�m sorry,� he began hastily, then stopped. �Sam.�

�Hi,� she said. Her face was full of compassion that he really didn�t want to see right now. �Need a ride?�

He nodded. At least she knew better than to ask how he was doing. Knew better than to even touch him. They walked silently to Sam�s car. It took over an hour to weave through Atlanta�s evening traffic and in all that time not one word passed between them. He knew she was watching him worriedly and was grateful that she realized he simply wasn�t ready to talk about it. Right now, her presence was enough.

* * *
Sam watched him surreptitiously. His face was absolutely expressionless as he stared through the windshield. It was the same blankness she had seen as he walked off the plane and it hadn�t changed since. She wasn�t entirely sure he was even blinking. She knew he hadn�t expected her at the airport and had immediately realized that he didn�t see her at all. She had set herself in his pathway and waited until he plowed into her.

Nathan had called her from the airport, letting her know when John�s plane was coming in. He had also warned her of his black, uncommunicative mood. She could hear the concern in his voice and was relieved. She knew he had been deeply hurt by what he saw as John�s lack of trust in him, but it was obvious that he still cared. There was a lot of rebuilding to be done between the two men and it was going to be difficult. Sam hoped that they would try.

Maybe it was for the best after all, she thought as she drove. Maybe living with Katherine and Mark would give the children a chance at a normal life. More normal than anything they�d have living with John anyway. It wasn�t something that John would be willing to even consider yet, she knew, but maybe one day he would be able to see.

* * *
the firehouse -

Chloe kept a worried eye on the elevator monitor as she waited for her mom and John to come home. Her mom had warned her that John would probably be pretty sad when they got there because Jamie and Megan weren�t coming back with him. They�d only been gone two days and she was already sort of starting to miss them too. Having Megan around had been almost like having a little sister and Jamie was... well, he was usually kind of cranky, but he was also a lot like John and sometimes he could be fun too.

She jumped up from the board game she�d been playing with agent Melissa as soon as she saw them appear on the monitor. John looked like he was cold, she thought. He had his hands jammed into his jacket pockets and his shoulders were all hunched up. There was also a dark spot under his right eye that looked like it might be a bruise. Her mom looked a little worried, kind of like she did when she thought that John or Chloe might be starting to get sick or something. As soon as the elevator doors opened Chloe threw herself at John. He really looked like he needed a hug, she thought as she wrapped her arms around him as tightly as she could.

He didn�t say anything, but he gave her a wobbly smile as he picked her up and carried her into the living room. He left his bag beside the sofa before they sat down and she guessed that he�d probably be staying in Angel�s old room tonight. That was good, she decided. He needed to be with his family and she and her mom were the closest thing he had to that without Jamie and Meg. She and her mom would be his family.

***** *****